


without you, there's nothing

by towokuwusatsuwu



Series: Pride 2018: 30 Days of S.W.O.R.D. [1]
Category: HiGH&LOW: the Story of S.W.O.R.D. (TV)
Genre: Friends to Lovers, Grief/Mourning, Introspection, Love Confessions, M/M, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-01
Updated: 2018-06-01
Packaged: 2019-05-16 22:41:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14820288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/towokuwusatsuwu/pseuds/towokuwusatsuwu
Summary: Kohaku shivers and Tsukumo presses closer to him without thinking about it, his body stiffening only slightly when Kohaku inches even closer. “Those kids… They’d do anything to protect this city, their homes. I feel like such an idiot for spending so much time being so useless. Cobra and Yamato shouldn’t have to knock sense into me for me to see that.”“You had a lot on your plate. They understand that, you know. They might be kids to us, but they’re men now.” At such young ages, Cobra and Yamato have figured out more than they give themselves credit for, and Tsukumo only wishes he could have been there to see them grow into the men they are together. He missed so much. “You’re like a father to them, you know. They’d do anything for you, so I’m sure they were happy to help.”Kohaku snorts. “They shouldn’t have had to. That’s my point.”





	without you, there's nothing

When Naomi told him that Kohaku slipped out of the restaurant a few hours ago with no word about where he was going or if he was coming back tonight, Tsukumo tried his best to ignore it. The prospect of spending his night trying to track Kohaku down in the dark with the threat of rain in the forecast looming overhead was not an exciting one, and though Tsukumo cares dearly for Kohaku, he has to draw the line somewhere. The devotion has never aided him in getting anywhere closer to where he wants to be in Kohaku’s life, anyway.

He tries not to be bitter about it, but as he hugs his jacket tighter around his shoulders and curses the freezing water droplets thumping him on the top of the head, the negativity is there. Better than anyone else in the world, Tsukumo knows that Kohaku has suffered, and he knows just how much Kohaku has suffered. How often do the memories resurface, memories of Kohaku smiling with the light still in his eyes? More often than they have any right to, a constant reminder that Tatsuya had taken so much with him when he passed away.

Kohaku loved Tatsuya. Tsukumo sometimes thinks that Kohaku put so much of himself into Tatsuya that when Tatsuya died, it was only natural that everything bright and vibrant and beautiful inside of Kohaku collapsed without him. Not that it makes it any easier to stomach the sight of him lately, his shaggy hair hiding his eyes from view, the only occasional warm words passed to Cobra or Yamato because those two are still so much the sons Kohaku never had.

The Amamiya Brothers might have earned themselves a fond spot in Kohaku’s heart as well, at least as far as Tsukumo can tell. The two had been gone for so long but now they pass through Itokan just as often as any members of Sannoh, and Kohaku always seems his own version of happy to see them. Maybe, somewhere in the middle of trying to save S.W.O.R.D. and bring Kuryu down, the three of them formed a bond that Tsukumo missed.

It wouldn’t surprise him. The four of them had spent so long risking their lives and engaging in battles with yakuza goons that Tsukumo was only able to extend his concentration to making sure the four of them got out of there alive with everything they needed to expose the truth. And for a little while, maybe it even started to feel like old times.

Everything comes to an end, though. The moment Kuryu was no longer a direct threat and everyone had a chance to start picking up the pieces again, Kohaku disappeared into the night and Tsukumo, despite promising himself he would not go searching for him fruitlessly, is here now. His shoes are soaked through with rain, his feet numb, and his sore joints protest this treatment, but he still soldiers on, calling out Kohaku’s name.

Not for the first time, it occurs to him that they could have died countless times during this endeavor and yet he still hasn’t found the strength to tell Kohaku how he feels about him. Actions may be louder than words but nothing Tsukumo has done so far has gotten through to Kohaku, or maybe Kohaku no longer allows himself to see the people around him who care about him. Maybe he blocks that all out. It would hardly be a surprise.

Tsukumo’s feet carry him to the bridge he has seen Cobra, Yamato, and Noboru on so many times before and his heart clenches painfully at the thought of the three of them. Time and distance had almost ripped apart the bond between them and yet they had forged it again, stronger and tighter than ever. Tsukumo is as proud of them as he is jealous, wishing he knew how they did it so he could replicate it, or at least try to replicate it, between himself and Kohaku.

He thinks his eyes are playing a trick on him, at first, that the dark figure leaning heavily against the rails is not there, or a figment of his imagination, a delusion from the fatigue. Wishful thinking, even, that he might have found Kohaku at such a nostalgic place. When he blinks a few times and wipes the rain water out of his eyes, the figure persists and Tsukumo lets himself hope, for just a moment, that he might have found Kohaku after all.

“Kohaku-san!” He calls out to him over the rain and the rumbling thunder, and when the figure lifts its head and turns toward his direction, Tsukumo forces himself to walk the few meters to close the distance between them. “It is you. I’ve been looking for you.”

Kohaku peers at him from beneath the hood of his coat, his hands crammed into the pockets, shoulders hunched no doubt against the chill. “Tsukumo, what are you doing out here?”

“Didn’t you hear me? I just told you I was looking for you. Walking around in the rain is bad for you.” Tsukumo leans against the railing and regrets it a moment later when the moisture soaks through his already sodden-jacket, the cold metal biting into his skin through the layers.

“Shouldn’t have done that.” Kohaku leans next to him, his gaze fixing on something in the distance, or perhaps nothing at all. “I can walk myself back home when I wanna leave.”

Tsukumo sighs softly and shakes his head, the ends of his hair sticking to his face. “Just the same, I’ve come to give you some company. What are you doing out here?”

“Thinking. I just wanted a little peace and quiet to think, and then it started raining.” Kohaku chuckles, though the sound is hollow and humorless. “It’s always something like that, right?”

“Always,” Tsukumo echoes.

Kohaku shivers and Tsukumo presses closer to him without thinking about it, his body stiffening only slightly when Kohaku inches even closer. “Those kids… They’d do anything to protect this city, their homes. I feel like such an idiot for spending so much time being so useless. Cobra and Yamato shouldn’t have to knock sense into me for me to see that.”

“You had a lot on your plate. They understand that, you know. They might be kids to us, but they’re men now.” At such young ages, Cobra and Yamato have figured out more than they give themselves credit for, and Tsukumo only wishes he could have been there to see them grow into the men they are together. He missed so much. “You’re like a father to them, you know. They’d do anything for you, so I’m sure they were happy to help.”

Kohaku snorts. “They shouldn’t have had to. That’s my point.”

“Oh well. Things happen. You have to learn to let some things go so you can move on, be happy.” Tsukumo almost bites his tongue on the last two words.

“Be happy. That’d be nice, actually. I’d like to be happy again.” Kohaku tilts his head just so, and even though the street lamps are so faint in the darkness, Tsukumo can make out the pale blue of one eye. “I’m sorry for worrying you. I shouldn’t have left before the storm.”

Tsukumo wants to breathe a sigh of relief. Instead, he bumps his shoulder against Kohaku’s companionably. “Can’t change the past. C’mon, let’s get home and dry off. It’s late.”

“Tsukumo?” Kohaku hesitates for a moment, then meets Tsukumo’s gaze head-on, his eyes so intensely that Tsukumo almost looks away. “Thank you for coming to look for me. Let’s go home.”

The words tie Tsukumo’s tongue in a knot and shove it down his throat quicker and more efficiently than any words ever have. It takes him a moment to realize Kohaku has moved away, started walking back toward the street that will take them home; he catches up and hopes Kohaku hadn’t noticed with the weather to distract him. The two of them have been through so much together, and Tsukumo would never need gratitude for everything he does for Kohaku; he has his own reasons for doing it. Being thanked hardly matters to him.

Just the same, his breathing is unsteady on the long walk home with Kohaku next to him. When the two of them had met, Kohaku had been impossibly impressive to his eyes. He had been strong, confident, and maybe Tsukumo had known, even then, that he would end up falling for him. The fact it had happened later, when Kohaku was broken and bleeding, torn apart at the seams and struggling to put the pieces back together again, is only semantics.

Tsukumo would be happy to help him put those pieces back together, even if as nothing more than his closest friend. Even if following Kohaku to the end means only accompanying him every step of the way instead of walking hand-in-hand with him, Tsukumo would have been satisfied. Better to be in his life as someone he trusts instead of not at all.

He says nothing at first, though. Not until they return home, until Kohaku is complaining about the rain and pulling off a shirt that clings to his skin like it was crudely painted on, raindrops dripping onto the carpet. Tsukumo already has a towel in hand for himself; he thinks better of it and crosses the half dozen steps between them, tossing the towel over Kohaku’s head, his hands trembling just the slightest as he gently dries Kohaku’s wet hair.

“Thanks.” Kohaku doesn’t try to take the towel from him, or knock his hands away. When Tsukumo pushes the terrycloth back from his face, Kohaku peeks up at him from beneath the worn fabric, his face carefully blank. “You don’t have to do that.”

The echo of his sentiment from earlier is what brings the words to Tsukumo’s lips, the very words he has been desperate to say and choked down nonetheless. “What if I want to?”

“Eh?” Kohaku furrows his brows at him and Tsukumo sucks in a breath. It seems like a dream to say anything at all, much less to tell Kohaku the truth. “What do you mean?”

It would be easy to back out now, brush it off as a joke or just say that friends help friends, anything like that. Kohaku would believe it, no doubt, if he has found nothing strange about anything else Tsukumo has ever told him. But Tsukumo wets his lips, takes a deep breath, and takes the plunge that even now terrifies him.

The truth can change everything. That is what they have been fighting for alongside the rest of S.W.O.R.D. after all. Not every change is a positive one, but the truth… Is still important.

“I like… Doing things for you. Helping you. Hunting you down on a stormy night because you’ve wandered off to think.” Tsukumo’s hands are still on Kohaku’s head, and he forces them to work the moisture out of Kohaku’s hair just to have something to do with them, something to divide his attention between so that Kohaku’s stare doesn’t cut through to his soul quite as hard. “Taking care of you’s not so bad. You watched over me in the hospital for so long.”

Kohaku takes a step back from him, not far enough back to break the contact between them but enough that Tsukumo freezes. “Tsukumo… You don’t want to… I’m not… I’m a mess. And you, you know, get that, I know, but it’s still not fair. I’m not… Good for people.”

“What kind of bullshit is that? I don’t want to hear that. Shut up.” Tsukumo inhales, watches Kohaku’s eyes widen, that deep coffee brown and the pale silvery blue. “You aren’t good for people? That’s… Tatsuya adored you, you know, and Cobra and Yamato. Hell, half of S.W.O.R.D. at this point because of what you did for all of them. Don’t say that.”

“You saw what I became before all of you had to step in to do something about it,” Kohaku argues.

Tsukumo drops his hands to Kohaku’s face, watches Kohaku jump at the touch, but he doesn’t lean away and Tsukumo counts this as a victory, no matter how small. “Yeah, I did. And I see who you are now, desperately trying to right all your wrongs. And I remember who you were when I first met you. I know all of you. There’s nothing for me to be afraid of.”

“You say that now, but you’ll… You’ll regret it. I’m sure of that.” Kohaku drops his eyes to the floor, but he doesn’t lean away. He doesn’t push Tsukumo away from him.

“How could I? You’re… I’ve wanted to be with you for years, you know. I haven’t regretted anything so far, and I won’t. I couldn’t.” It’s hard to speak with the knot growing in his throat but Tsukumo soldiers on, brushing a stray water droplet from Kohaku’s temple. “It’s always been you, for me. I’ll never regret you.”

Kohaku tries to lean back then, but Tsukumo steps forward with the movement, their foreheads touching just barely. Any small contact with Kohaku is almost too much for him to handle, because there is so much he wants to do. He wants to hold Kohaku’s hand, lace their fingers together. He wants to touch his face, trace the contours and bones beneath. He wants to touch every part of Kohaku, the smooth dark skin and the defined muscles and the multitude of scars until he knows every part of him better than he knows himself.

It takes everything in him to get the words out. “I love you, Kohaku-san. I always have. At this rate I’m sure I always will.”

“I’m scared. The last time I let myself love someone, I lost them. And I’ve already almost lost you before.” Kohaku squeezes his eyes shut and Tsukumo’s chest hurts at the sight, at the words. “I don’t want that to happen again. I don’t think I’d survive it.”

“Then I won’t go anywhere. I’ll make sure to stay right here with you where you don’t have to worry about me.” Tsukumo tries for a smile, but it trembles on his lips.  _ I would do anything for you. So please, please, let me love you the way I’ve always wanted. The way you deserve. _

Kohaku’s breathing is ragged and when he opens his eyes, a thin film of tears covers the beautiful colors beneath. “You can’t keep a promise like that.”

“Watch me,” Tsukumo says.

“A-all right.” Kohaku’s entire frame shudders and one tear breaks free; Tsukumo wipes it away quickly, watches Kohaku lean into his touch. “I want to love you, too. It might take time, because there’s so much. But I’ll try, every day.”

“I’ve waited this long for you. I can wait a little longer.” Tsukumo swallows hard, and his throat clicks, and maybe his eyes are a little wet, too. “C’mere, I’ve waited long enough for this, too.”

The kiss is nothing like his fantasies; his imagination at its most wild would never compare to this, the way Kohaku’s lips tremble against his own, the way he grips Tsukumo’s shoulders with a panicky tightness like he’s afraid this moment will end. Tsukumo kisses him with all of the passion and the tenderness in his heart, the bulk of it reserved specifically for the beautiful mess of a man in front of him. It might not be much, this kiss, but it means everything to him.

Maybe, just maybe, Kohaku will even be able to let himself love Tsukumo, too.


End file.
